


A Pack Of Brothers

by AdrenalineRevolver



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Dogs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23299321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: How Spot got his name and the real reason for his issues with Jack Kelly.I forgot to mention! Ace isn't mine he's https://sneakydraws.tumblr.com 's
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 18
Kudos: 60





	1. Puppies

Racetrack sat and watched Spot carry on more of a conversation than he just about had ever heard from the guy. 

“…and then I said to her that she’s a real sweet girl and all but I’m just here to sell papes..” He didn’t seem at all thrown off by the fact that his audience was a pack of mutts who just seemed to be entertained by him speaking. 

“Hey Hotshot.” Race leaned over to whisper to the Brooklyn newsie who was watching this. “He knows they ain’t gonna talk back right?”

“….Probably.” Hotshot then shrugged. “Not that it matters.”

“Probably?” Racetrack raised an eyebrow.

Hotshot didn’t seem at all phased. “Spot’s just as weird as the rest of us, ya know? If not a bit weirder considerin’.”

Race lowered his voice to a whisper, just in case it was something they weren’t supposed to be talking about. “Considerin’ what?” 

“Watch this.” He then yelled out. “Hey Spot, you gonna introduce Manhattan to the family or what?”

Racetrack had assumed Spot would round on Hotshot with a barb of his own but he actually looked a touch…embarrassed? No, more like apologetic.

“Sorry. Got a little wrapped up in catchin’ up.” As he stood the dogs all circled around him with excitement when they noticed he was talking to another human.

“This is Mittens, she’s got her mittens.” A gray dog with white feet wagged her tail at her name. Her hair was wiry and she seemed perpetually thrilled with the world around her. Her ears stuck up and swiveled around trying to pick up every little sound.

“That’s Teague and Dash. They’re brothers and terrible thieves, they can’t help it. Teague likes coats and Dash prefers food.” He laughs when Dash’s ears perk up at the word food. “I ain’t got any.” The two dogs were tan and tall with partially folded ears, identical except for the white muzzle on Dash.

“Clover, met her when she was rolling around in some.” He picked up a small mutt with a blue eye and a brown eye who immediately tried licking his face. “She’s a fan of kissing.” Her dark fur was longer on her ears and tail, giving her the appearance of some sort of spaniel mix.

“This is Pup.” He used his foot to point out a little tuxedo cat who promptly tried to bite his shoelaces. “She’s adopted. Don’t tell her, it’ll break her heart.

A giant grey mutt that looked like it was closer to a wolf than a dog leaned against Spot. “And this is Momma. She looks after everyone. Mittens is her puppy, dogcatchers picked up the rest of her family so she’s a little protective.” She stared with an intensity that would make most anyone uncomfortable.

Hotshot put his hand on his heart in fake insult. “Just one puppy? The woman does her best to raise you and you don’t even include yourself.”

Racetrack assumed Spot would at least hit him in the shoulder but instead Spot looked a bit chastised. 

“She knows she’s done a good job.” He sat Clover down and scratched Momma behind the ears. “I was talkin’ biologically…” 

Wait what?

“You ever told Race how you got your name? Cause I’m absolutely gonna.” Hotshot grinned.

“Fuck off.” Spot huffed. 

“Yes sir!” He faked a salute. “After I tell Racetrack how you’re feral.” 

“Feral?” Racetrack asked.

Hotshot immediately launched into his story. “So I was like, 9 or 10 or whatever and was sellin’ on my own for the first time. There was this alley I was scared shitless of cause there was this rumor that some circus escapee or werewolf lived down it. I got dared to go check it out and saw this shadow surrounded by dogs and it growled at me. I took off like my ass was on fire.” 

He laughed before continuing. “So naturally I tell Ace, he ran things back then, and Ace decided he was gonna go check it out. Now I realize why, it was gearin’ up to snow, but I thought he was nuts at the time.”

Spot looked away at the mention of their previous leader. Race had noticed that Ace was a bit of a sore spot. 

“I followed him down tryin to stop him but he marched right up to this pile of sleeping dogs and says “Are you okay?” then a course he got growled at and Ace just goes “I’ve seen you around and heard you talk before, you don’t have to fake it.” And proceeded to ask about everyone’s name.”

“And you decided to be an ass.” Spot glared.

“Yeah but was I wrong?” Hotshot grabbed Pup when she got close enough. The cat flopped over in his arms and began to purr loudly enough that Racetrack could hear it.

“The first thing out of his mouth was ‘So what are you? Rover? Spot?’ and apparently I didn’t hit him hard enough.” Spot stared at the cat like she was a traitor.

He snorted in laughter. “You were into it in a week.” 

“It beat any of the others.” Spot admitted.

“I still don’t know what kinda deal he struck but he was already livin in Ace’s room with all these damn dogs.” When Pup meowed at him he tapped her nose before setting her down.

“If they were left outside they woulda froze!” Spot sounded like he’d tried to explain this a million times. 

“I bet Ace just didn’t want any of us gettin’ fleas.” Hotshot whispered to the side.

“You-!” He pulled Hotshot down by the collar. As he did Mittens barked in excitement, seems like she thought this was play. “None of them got fleas and you know it!” 

Hotshot burst into laughter, Racetrack honestly hadn’t seen anyone laugh in the face of being threatened by Spot Conlon. “Sure boss.”

A smug grin slowly crept onto Spot’s face. “Especially since I use your whiskey in their baths to kill anything.”

“You bastard!” Hotshot ripped his hat off and holds it out of Spot’s reach. “I actually paid for some of that and you’re usin’ it as a flea dip?”

Spot stared at the hat but wasn’t about to jump for it. “Ain’t always got enough money for baking soda and you just use the stuff as an excuse to cause a problem.”

“You literal, abject, awful son of a bitch!” He tossed Spot’s hat behind them and took off. Before it even hit the ground Clover chased it down and snatched it. 

“Where are you going?” Spot folded his arms.

“To hide my shit better!” Hotshot quickly rounded a corner as he tore off back towards the Brooklyn lodging house.

Once he’s out of earshot Spot laughs. “Dash’ll just find it again, I give it two days. Tops.”

“So uh, I know it ain’t my business.” Racetrack waited to be blown off but instead Spot just sighed. 

“It was better than bein at home.” He held his hand out for Clover to hand him his hat back. “I could scare off other kids by pretendin’ to be nuts, sometimes adults felt sorry enough for me that they gave me somethin’ to eat, and I didn’t freeze at night.”

“…Sorry.” Racetrack never exactly knew what to say to others letting on that their home lives weren’t the greatest. He barely even remembered his. Just little things stuck out. His mother having soft blonde hair like him, her singing in Italian, and his dad switching between Irish and English were all distant memories that sometimes kept him up at night.

“Not your fault.” He shrugged. “Made me tough enough to be able to run things. Plus without me the dogs probably woulda been picked up and killed by now.”

“I ain’t really ever had a home. Not one that I remember at least. Always been at the lodging house.” He explained.

“That’s a home.” He grinned as Clover hopped up to try and grab his hat. “Just a loud one you gotta pay to be apart of.”

“Yeah.” Racetrack watched him do his best to defend his hat only to have Mittens grab it when he leaned back. “Ya really do see em as family, don’t you?”

“That a problem?” He almost seemed nervous.

“No no!” He quickly backtracked. “I mean if I consider the guys in Manhattan family actual dogs is a step up.”

Spot did his best not to smile; apparently it was fine to smile for the dogs but not other people. “Maybe Hotshot ain’t as dumb as he looks. He insisted that you’d get it.” 

“He’ll be thrilled to hear.” Race laughed.

“And let it go to his head? Absolutely not.” Spot grinned anyway. 

“Aw, I’m sure he’d call ya a good boy if you told him.” He winked. 

“I can and will beat you to death.” Red crept onto Spot’s face.

“Local Newsboy Mauled to Death in Brooklyn!” Racetrack held up an imaginary newspaper. “Witness statement: That’s what you get for going to Brooklyn!”

“Why haven’t I tossed you into the bay yet?” He leaned down to pet Dash. 

“You’d miss me eventually.” He winked and blew a kiss. 

Spot just stared for a moment. “Unfortunately.” 

It wasn’t quite an ‘I love you, I wanna be with you.’ but it would do. Racetrack took a chance on it and leaned in closer, letting his eyes fall shut as he did. 

The snickering almost made him lean back in time before a tongue started licking at his face. He sputtered and pulled away to see Spot holding Clover up to his face. He wanted to be disgusted but Spot was grinning at him, Spot’s smile could light up the whole damn world. It could punch right through the smog and make the city beautiful. 

“Gettin’ a little ahead of yourself?” He teased as Clover struggled to try and lick Racetrack again.

“Implies I can get there.” Race pointed out. 

“Never said you couldn’t.” Spot’s cheeks were faintly red as he looked away. “Just said you’re gettin’ ahead of yourself. My guys are good with…this sort of thing, but cops still exist. So do spies.”

“Spies?” He laughed. 

“What you don’t deal with newsies from other boroughs pokin’ around where they don’t belong to pick up information? You think I don’t know Kelly thinks a you as one of his?”

“I ain’t a spy!” Racetrack suddenly found himself second-guessing all the times Jack had asked him how Brooklyn had been that day. Why would he care to listen to Race go on about something on the other side of the city? Was he a spy? Did you have to know you were a spy to be one?

“You are. ‘s alright though, there ain’t nothin’ you can tell him that he don’t already know. Besides, if I really minded you think I wouldn’t of broken your legs by now?” He huffed. “Cute spies still get sent home in bits.”

Racetrack paused. “I’m cute?” 

Spot quickly pulled Clover up to hide his face and mumbled into her fur. “I’m going to kick your ass.”


	2. Littermates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The true reason for the tension between Jack and Spot. If those are their real names.

Racetrack had a decent amount of experience sticking his foot into things he didn’t quite get. Usually he could piece things together and force it all to make sense but the interaction he’d watched between Jack and Spot was threatening to keep him up. 

As he listened to the other newsies sleep he went over everything again. 

He and Spot had found a bit of time in the alley while everyone was out. He had Spot leaning against the brick wall and his lips on Spot’s neck when he was pulled away by the shoulder. Racetrack had expected to see a bull or the Delancys but it was Jack. 

“What are you doing?” He used the rare tone that some of the others would actually flinch over. 

Before Racetrack could even begin to say anything Spot pulled him closer. “Fuck off, Kelly.” 

Jack pulled back like he’d been burned. “What?”

“You heard me, fuck off. Go be a hypocrite somewhere else.“ He squared himself like he was ready to fight. Racetrack sincerely hoped that if it did get to that point Spot would let him go rather than just punch around him. 

Jack lowered his voice to a hiss. “It ain’t that simple and you know it.”

“Fuck. Off. Kelly.” Spot practically growled out. 

“Listen, if you wanna get thrown in jail or some asylum for being careless that’s on you but don’t get one of my guys killed in the process!” Jack took a step closer and instead of being intimidated it just seemed to piss Spot off. 

“One of your-“ Spot squared his jaw. “I should break your fucking legs.”

“Go home to throw a tantrum. I ain’t in the mood for it.” Jack’s abject dismissal threw Racetrack for a loop. 

“I ain’t going anywhere so you’d better run away again. You’re awful good at that aint ya? Runnin’ away. Being a coward. When you gonna split, huh? I wonder how your guys feel about knowing you’re gonna run on ‘em eventually?” If Racetrack wasn’t lost before now he definitely was.

Jack barely even got a sound out before Spot interrupted him. 

He let Racetrack go and shoved Jack back. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that.” 

“Then don’t do this here.” Jack’s voice was artificially calm as he wrapped his hand around Spot’s wrist.

“Then where? When? I know damn well the answer is never so don’t pretend. Just go back to hiding from everything.” He waved him off. “Tell the replacement I said hi.”

Jack grabbed him by the collar. “Don’t you bring him into this.”

“He’s already been brought into this! You did that! He’s a pretty little replacement and you don’t even have the balls to admit it.” Spot poked him in the chest and didn’t even try to pull away. 

“And you’re so innocent. What about-“ Jack was interrupted by a bitter laugh.

“This ain’t about me. It’s about you, like it’s always fucking been.” He pried himself away. “Race, I’ll be back later.”

Jack watched him walk away before sighing. “I’ll see you back at the lodging house later.” With that he walked in the opposite direction. 

Racetrack felt like he’d been in a hit and run. What the hell just happened? He knew that they were talking about something important, but he honestly didn’t even know that they knew each other well enough for it.

Jack was up in his penthouse by the time Racetrack got back and he’d tried to carry on as normal. Until he tried to sleep, of course, and it all kept playing out over and over.

He wasn’t not gonna sleep like this. Race slipped out the window and crawled up the ladder. 

Crutchie was asleep while Jack sat staring at a blank canvas. 

“Hey.” Racetrack carefully sat down next to him. 

“Hey.” He whispered. “Ya know, you’d think that thing would be a good thing.” He uses his brush to point at the canvas. “Invites people to do whatever they want. All it tells me is I ain’t done nothin’.”

He got the feeling they weren’t quite talking about art. “Is leadin’ the strike nothin’?”

“To some people.” Jack put the brush behind his ear. “You got a family?”

A dangerous question for a newsie but Racetrack figured he might as well answer. “Used to.” 

“What happened?” An even more dangerous question, what was Jack on about?

“Russian flu.” He picked at his shoes. “Dad worked on the docks and one day he brought it home with him. He and my sisters died right away. When I got it mom went to the train station and never came back. Not sure if she hopped a train or hopped in front of one. Ended up getting better by myself and making my way here after I was thrown out of the apartment.”

He was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

Racetrack shrugged. “I don’t really remember it. What’s got you so nostalgic?”

He twirled his brush nervously. “I used to have one too. Dad was such a prick that mom was savin’ money to run away for as long as I can remember. I got tired of him yellin’ for no damn reason. One day I just left. I told myself I’d go back. First after I found a job. Then after I found a place to live. I never did.”

“I mean, I don’t blame ya.” Racetrack would have split too.

“Not yet.” Jack sighed. “I had a younger brother. He was a shy thing. Always worried about pissing off dad or worrying mom. Mom always sent him outside at the first sign of trouble because he just took what was thrown at him. Point is, I didn’t bring him. He was afraid to leave mom so in the end I left him… His name was Theodore.” 

Racetrack cringed as it started to click into place. “What happened to him?” 

“Don’t know, nothing good I expect.” He couldn’t force himself to make eye contact.

Racetrack decided to go ahead and point out the elephant in the room. “Runnin’ all of Brooklyn ain’t so bad.”

“A bit of a step down from being in school. Even if it was a shitty one.” He leaned his head back to look at the smoke-obscured stars. “I’d hate me too.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Racetrack had seen Spot around people he hated.

“Oh doesn’t he?” Jack laughed.

“If he hated ya he’d of broken your nose. He also wouldn’t have shown up for the strike in the first place.” Spot might have sent some of the others, but if he genuinely hated Jack Racetrack doubted that he’d bother coming.

“Maybe…” He didn’t seem all that convinced.

“So uh…” Racetrack gestured towards Crutchie. “Replacement?”

“He takes me and Crutchie a bit personally.” He huffed, it actually sounded a bit like Spot now that Racetrack was thinking about it. 

“Well it might help if ya tell him the truth.” Thinking your brother had just found another brother figure would have to sting, but knowing he’d fallen for someone would be something else entirely.

Jack winced. “That obvious?”

“Nah.” It was only a little lie; it wasn’t obvious when they were out and about but here at the lodging house? Jack did nothing but stare longingly.

“Even if he was though, still ain’t exactly fair to say anything about it when he’s got Hotshot. Since when is the oldest guy in the group not the leader? Besides he’s been hanging out with him for at least as long as I’ve been here.” He seemed to realize he was fiddling with his brush and set it down.

Racetrack snorted. “Almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

“What if I am?” For once he sounded like his age rather than artificially adult. When Race first heard him actually sound like a kid it had been scary, a reminder of how young they all were, but now it felt like a compliment. None of the others got to talk to Jack like this, they were always looking up while Racetrack sometimes got to speak eye to eye.

“Maybe don’t pick fights then.” He shrugged. 

“I wasn’t tryin’ to pick a fight, it was the truth. If you two get caught you get put away.” He then looked down at his shoes. “Besides you ain’t exactly known for longstanding things.”

Race stared for a moment before breaking out in a grin. “Holy shit, you’re afraid I’m going to break Spot fucking Conlon’s heart.” 

Jack went a brighter red than the cheap paint on his shirt. “I-“

He bit down on his hat to keep from laughing. 

“You done?” He sighed.

“Never,” He waved him on. “go on.” 

“I know Spot can handle himself. He can damn sure handle you. Teddy though…” He trailed off. 

“Wait, they’re the same guy right?” Racetrack was starting to get confused again.

“Yeah, but not really.” Jack explained. “It’s like a different person who looks and sounds just like him.”

“Pft, yeah sure. You should see him on his own turf. He spends his time taking care of kids’ scraped knees and playing with dogs.” Spot was a complete softie deep down.

That seemed to give Jack a bit of hope. “What would I even say?”

“Start with sorry.” Crutchie mumbled, still half asleep. “You gotta start there.” 

“Did we wake you?” Jack switched back to a whisper.

“‘S fine.” Crutchie sat up. “This is about Spot right?”

“How come he got to know before me?” Racetrack feigned being hurt.

“Quiet.” Jack elbowed him.

“He probably just wants you to acknowledge everything.” He yawned. “Good and bad.”

“You should probably sleep.” Jack leaned in and kissed Crutchies forehead.

“Gross.” Racetrack stuck his tongue out. 

He rolled his eyes. “I caught you in an alley making out with my brother.”

“That’s different.” He laughed. “You should come with me to Steeplechase tomorrow. I’m meetin’ Spot there.”

“You sure about that?” Jack raised an eyebrow. 

“Ah if he’s mad he can toss me into the river.” Racetrack shrugged.

Jack smiled and laid back to look up at the stars. “Like he would.” 

Racetrack finally managed to get some sleep after that.

Jack was fiddling with everything he got his hands on the next morning. He seemed like he was going to burst. 

“Calm down there Cowboy, you ain’t goin’ into a lion’s den.” Crutchie leaned against him. 

“Why does it feel like it?” He sighed. 

“Guilt.” He tugged Jack’s hat down over his eyes.

“Subtle ain’t ya?” Jack smiled all the same. 

Racetrack kind of hated to interrupt, but only kind of. “You ready to go?”

“No, but I’m commin’.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Good enough.” Race figured it would at least be a start.

Racetrack could feel the eyes on him as he crossed over the bridge. 

“Well he’s gonna know we’re commin’” Jack sighed. 

“Probably for the best.” Sneakin’ up on Spot was a good way to get soaked.

“Maybe.” Jack looked like he was about to run.

Spot intercepted them on the way to the lodging house. “Why is he here?” 

Jack was tempted to say something but didn’t. There was nothing he could say that would help.

“He wants to talk ta ya.” Racetrack replied smoothly.

Spot let out a laugh and turned to leave. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

Jack took a careful step forward. “You don’t have to.” 

“I-“

“I’m sorry.” Jack interrupted. 

Spot looked legitimately surprised before forcing himself to appear neutral as he turned around. “You have five minutes. You’re coming too.” He pointed to Racetrack and led them down an alley to try and make sure they weren’t listened to. Once he was confident that they were alone he turned to face Jack. “What did you say?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated.

Spot gaped for a moment before fighting for his composure. “Why?”

“Leaving you wasn’t right.” Jack said simply. “I was scared and tired and didn’t realize you would were too. I convinced myself that you didn’t want to go because things were better for you than they seemed. When I realized I was wrong and came back for you you’d already given up and left.”

“I didn’t leave. I was kicked out.” Spot nudged at the dirt with his foot.

“…What?” Horror crept into Jack’s voice. 

“I take it dad didn’t tell you?” He looked away. “Mom ran off days after you left. He blamed you for leaving and me for bein’-“

“Don’t-” Jack grimaced as he thought over all the things their father would say, both to his face and behind his back. 

“What? One of those? Queer? Apparently that’s why mom took to off, according to him at least.” Spot played it off like it didn’t bother him though Racetrack could remember how hesitant he’d been to admit that he was interested in another guy.

“That’s not why.” Jack quickly shook his head. “He was a violent fucking drunk and she just couldn’t take it. She adored you.” 

Spot’s laugh was bitter. “Running away is a funny way of showing that.” 

“I wasn’t there to keep her home.” He whispered like he was confessing to murder.

“What?” He looked confused.

“I would always keep him from losin’ it when she debated leaving. She’d thought about it before. She thought he’d stop hurtin’ us if she was gone.” He looked down at his shoes. “Dad was right to blame me for leaving, but you didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“…He soaked me after the cops reported her assumed dead. You-“ Spot paused when Jack pushed passed him. “Where the fuck are you going?” 

“To break his fucking neck.” Jack growled.

“No you ain’t.” Spot grabbed Jack and pinned him to the wall. 

Jack had to fight to keep from raising his voice. “This is a long time commin’. I told him before I left that if he hurt you I’d kill him, I’m done givin’ him a break.”

“You ain’t goin’ back there.” It almost sounded like a request.

“Y-“

“He’s got a gun you dipshit!” Spot yelled and gripped his shoulders. “He’s got a gun. Put a bullet in the wall and told me to get out. I ain’t gonna let you walk into a deathtrap.”

Jack was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. “He shot at you?”

“Holy shit.” Racetrack had tried to be silent the entire time but this was too much.

“Shot at the wall.” Spot quickly fell into making excuses. Race had seen some of the others at the lodging house do that for their parents before; it was easier to pretend things were more okay than they actually were. “He was drunk and wanted to scare me off. I got the message, it was fine.” 

“He shot at you.” Jack’s voice was both devoid of emotion and dripping with fury.

“Yeah well, he may not miss next time.” Spot gave a bit of a laugh as he tried to brush it off. 

“I’m gonna kill him.” He snarled. 

“Kelly-“

“That fuckin’ bastard.” His knuckles were white.

“Jack-“ 

Jack didn’t even seem to notice that he was interrupting him. “I’m gonna make him wish-“

“Franky!” Spot yelled. Jack stopped in his tracks, completely frozen. “Don’t risk your life over somethin’ that was years ago. You got away. Don’t go back.” 

“I abandoned you.” Jack insisted. 

He shook his head. “Not forever. Didn’t abandon your guys forever either. You’re just like some mangy cat. You get lose, run off for a while, and then show back up whenever it’s the most inconvenient. It ain’t the worst way to be. It’s better than just digging your heels in when you should get out.”

“I’m so sorry.” Jack carefully put his hand on Spot’s cheek, as if he was afraid of somehow breaking him. “It’s no wonder you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, dipshit.” Spot looked away. It wasn’t unlike the expression he wore when he was trying to give Racetrack some sort of compliment carefully crafted to come across as an insult or when he was trying to talk Race into staying the night while refusing to say it directly.

“I hurt you.” Jack insisted. 

“Ain’t the worst I’ve been hurt.” Spot shrugged, the little movement was enough to break Race’s heart.

Jack sighed and leaned forward so that his head was resting on Spot’s shoulder. “I shoulda stayed.” 

He laughed; it was almost bitter, but not quite. “No way. It was killin’ you.” 

“What happened? After you left.” He didn’t lift his head up. 

“Lived with some dogs for a bit.” He said it like it was entirely normal.

Jack pulled back and his mouth fell open while he processed it. “What about ma?”

“I was afraid shed get shot for hiding me if I found her, or worse, she wouldn’t want me.” Spot looked away. 

“She would.” Jack was certain of it, even knowing everything.

He rolled his eyes. “I know that now.”

“How did you end up workin’?” Jack asked.

“Ace and Hotshot found me.” It looked like it stung to even say Ace’s name. 

He sighed deeply. “If you’d just gone to Manhattan…”

“I did.” He bit his lip and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. 

“What?” Confusion quickly covered Jack’s face. 

“I went there after first getting thrown out. You had told me where you were going.” He glanced down the alley as if he was debating running. 

“Why didn’t you come find me?” It sounded like he was trying not to get frustrated.

“I did.” His voice was clipped.

“That can’t be.” Jack shook his head knowing that he wouldn’t have let Spot leave if he’d seen him.

“I saw you with Crutchie and I just…left.” He kicked at some gravel near his feet.

“Spot…” Jack covered his eyes and dragged his hand down his face, agony slipping into his tone.

“You’d been gone for a week and you already replaced me I just, I couldn’t deal with it.” He was more resigned than anything that probably hurt more than any amount of anger could.

“Teddy,” He sighed and took a gamble on using Spot’s childhood nickname. “I didn’t replace you. I could never.”

“You were hangin’ all over him.” Spot tried to sound angry; Racetrack could tell he was really doing his best to. He just sounded hurt.

Jack glanced over his shoulder before leaning in. “Because I’m in love with him. Always have been.”

“You’re…” Spot stared, wide-eyed. Racetrack could see why Jack had referred to Spot and Teddy as different people. His voice was softer, his shoulders weren’t squared, and he seemed like his guard was actually down. 

“A coward?” He leaned away and suddenly couldn’t quite bring himself to look Spot in the eye. 

“No.” He shook his head.

“Like that? Yeah. Remember that actor, the one who worked for Lillian Russell? I liked him just as much as you. I just already knew I shouldn’t say anything. I didn’t think you’d say anything about it, I thought you knew it wasn’t…allowed.” Jack’s voice cracked when he bit out ‘allowed’. Racetrack can’t remember the last time Jack let anyone see him near tears.

“All I did was ask why.” He huffed. “Why no guy had a husband. It just set him off, he was yelling about how he knew it. Mom just sent me to out to play.”

Jack pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He let his voice be muffled as he actually stayed in Jack’s arms.

“I was afraid. One of them could hear. If I was normal I was safe. I could vouch for you.” He took a shuddering breath. “That ain’t what you needed though, is it?”

Spot slowly shook his head. 

“I shoulda at least…I shoulda tried to not be a coward.” He leaned away and suddenly couldn’t quite bring himself to look Spot in the eye. 

“You ain’t a coward.” Spot put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have said nothin’ either if I’d known.”

Jack wasn’t about to stop blaming himself just yet. “But once I knew I shoulda told you.” 

“Probably.” There was no anger behind it. 

“I hate ta interrupt, but this guy was freakin’ out yesterday cause he thought I was gonna break your heart.” Racetrack grinned; this was all a little heavy for him. 

Spot’s face went red. “What?”

Jack pulled away and sputtered. “Well Race hasn’t always been the most dedicated, ya know?”

Spot playfully punched Jack in the shoulder. “I can handle myself. All of Brooklyn would soak him if he did somethin’ stupid.” 

“All of Brooklyn? So they know?” Jack looked stunned. 

“There’s less normal people than ya think. Why would anyone move ta Brooklyn if they was normal? It’s like movin’ to The Bowery. Besides it’s not like they could soak me for it if they wanted to.” The word ‘normal’ dripped with sarcasm.

“Speakin’ a normal, Jack should meet the family.” Racetrack suggested.

“Family?” Jack cocked his head to one side.

“They always are a good judge a character.” Spot put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. 

Within a minute the entire pack comes barreling down the alley, Pup included. Teague and Dash jumped Racetrack the moment they saw him, eager to try and play their favorite game of ‘who can knock him down first’. Teague won this time around. Clover ran in a circle around Spot’s feet until she was picked up. 

Meanwhile Jack was backed into the wall and being sniffed at by Momma. Like always, she was intensely focused. 

“So, what do you think?” Spot looked a little nervous on Jack’s behalf.

Jack held his hand out to the dog as if he was going to shake her hand and gave her a big grin. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jack Kelly. Thanks for lookin’ after him for me.” Racetrack could tell it was only halfway a joke.

After a moment of hesitation she licked his hand.

“Well if she thinks you’re alright you must be.” Spot set Clover down and scratched the giant grey dog when she came over to him. “I ain’t about to move to Manhattan though.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of askin’ ya to.” Jack bent over to pet Mittens when she got close. 

“And if you call me Teddy in front a anybody I’m gonna soak you.” He warned.

Jack’s grin was somewhere between playful and sinister. “Sure thing, Teddy.” 

If looks could kill Jack would be dead before he hit the ground. “I’m glad we understand each other, Francis Sullivan.”

“Ouch, okay yeah.” Jack laughed. 

“And you.” Spot pointed at Racetrack who took a step back and held his hands up in surrender. “You’re stayin’ in Brooklyn tonight.”

“Sir yes sir.” He threw his arm around Spot’s shoulder. He knew all this would be a good idea.


End file.
